


Adjustment

by Ephemera_pop (Alex_Draven)



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-22
Updated: 2005-02-22
Packaged: 2018-10-16 17:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Draven/pseuds/Ephemera_pop
Summary: Also starting from the first line of one of  Turps stories, but it resolutely refused to be a drabble. So instead you get this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Also starting from the first line of one of Turps stories, but it resolutely refused to be a drabble. So instead you get this.

Chris watches eyes half closed as he leans against the wall. He's tired, but damned if he's going to be the first to quit and go back to the hotel. Especially not with Joey pressing up against Lance like Chris' boyfriend is his own personal pole or something. Boyfriend. Fuckbuddy. Same difference, at least when it comes to someone who's supposed to be your friend too. It's one thing to watch Lance flirt with the strangers, but this is just cold.

Chris knows he already shares Lance's heart with four other men, uneven shares at that, so he thinks it's only fair that he should at least get to, you know, fuck his fuck buddy, instead of having to watch and smile while Joey moves in on him. He thinks that maybe he has served his purpose, broken the ice, so to speak, and now Lance is ready to move on to bigger better things with someone who doesn't drive him insane and break his laptop and interrupt his phone calls and have to be corralled in a separate room before every show.

Chris retreats to the chill out room and watches his drink for a while, in case that holds the answer. He's startled when all of a sudden there's a Lance in his lap, smiling and loose-limbed.

"Hey baby – you're not dancing!"

"You two seemed to be having fun without me."

Lance might be drunk enough not to notice the barb but Chris makes sure Joey hears, where he's crouched down, leaning against Chris' arm.

"Yes, but not as much as if you'd come too."

Lance is perilously close to whining, but Chris makes a joke of it, not wanting to drive Lance away any quicker than he was already going.

"Ahh – you're just saying that 'cos you want me to carry you home."

"Um, yeah." Joey rumbles, nudging Chris with his head, because his hands are full of glasses. "About that."

Chris can't run away with Lance squirming in his lap and Joey pinning one of his arms. He doesn’t want to hear this.

"J and JC already left, so there's no Timberlake to haul your butt Joe."

"Yeah. No, I know. That's..."

Joey's floundering and that's not a good sign and Chris can’t stop watching his lips trying to form the dreaded words. Lance's fingers are gentle on Chris's face, turning Chris until his lips are where Lance can lean down and touch them with his own.

"What do you think abut Joe coming home with us, Chris?" Lance whispers under the music.

Chris has no idea what to say, torn between pretending Joey's going to be sleeping in the guest room and just standing up and dumping Lance on top of the lucky bastard. The other two exchange a worried look and then Joey's fingers are working their way up under Chris's jeans, looping round his ankle and squeezing around the tendon at the back. Chris is suddenly certain he should never have confessed to liking foot rubs almost as much as sex.

"Chris?" Joey seems to have found his tongue, and that's just so typically Joey – he's not going to pressure and plead because, while he can be a whiny sod about somethings, never anything that would hurt a friend.

Chris shifts, moving Lance so he can look Joe in the eye.

"Why? And it better not be guilt."

"Guilt? Chris – what the fuck? Because it's you, man. You and Lance."

Lance is nuzzling again.

"He misses you Chris – and, I thought…. "

Chris shakes his head, shakes both of them away.

"Jesus – Lance, if you want to dump me just do it!"

Chris is hissing the words and Lance sits back, stricken, in a way that makes Chris feel like a total bastard.

"No – Chris – it's not like that." Joey pleads, not letting go of Chris's ankle while the other hand moves to gentle Lance.

"Not like what Joey?"

Joey's had enough to drink that his temper shows when he replies.

"Jesus Chris, I'm not trying to steal your man, ok? Of course I want him. Who wouldn’t want him? He's beautiful inside and out, Chris, but so are you, and … fuck. I'm sorry. Okay?"

When Joey leans up and kisses him Chris is frozen with incomprehension, and then Lance moves in his arms again, and there's another mouth on Chris, mouthing along his jawbone. When Joey pulls away, blushing furiously, Lance's hand wraps around the back of Joey's head and won't let him go and Chris knows he has to say something.

"Oh." Is all he can find. Joey's bare arm is hot and slick with sweat under Chris' fingers, and the slide of t-shirt over Lance's waist is perfect. "Oh"

Carefully Chris leans forward and places a soft kiss on Joey's lips, then moves only inches to do the same with Lance.

"You?" he manages, looking between them, and the way hope flares in both pairs of eyes and the way two hands tighten on the fabric of his jeans Chris gets that maybe it wasn't like that after all. That maybe it can be like this instead, for real. He nods, and Joey and Lance close the loop with a chaste kiss.

Chris has one arm around Lance's waist, the other wrapped around Joey, and they draw the kiss out, deepening it with closed eyes when Chris lets out a long breath of 'ohhh' and presses them closer in his embrace.


End file.
